


You And I Alone

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Angels and Demons Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alastair (Supernatural) (mentioned) - Freeform, All the handholding smut, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Assassin Dean Winchester, Assassins & Hitmen, Barebacking, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, But Still Plot, Crowley (mentioned) - Freeform, Don't Like Don't Read, Gangs, Handholding, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied Violence, Kissing, Lilith (Supernatural) (Mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, Mafia Leader Sam, Michael (Supernatural) (Mentioned) - Freeform, Mobs, Mostly porn, Ruby (Genevieve Cortese) (Supernatural) (Mentioned), Top Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, duh - Freeform, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13590087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: A month had gone by, and Sam hadn't heard a peep from Dean. He knew Dean was the best, and that he was probably just buried deeper underground than an ostrich's head because of his whatever big-shot he was trying to take down, but damnit if Sam wasn't worried. He just wanted his brother, and if it weren't for maintaining his own cover, he'd have gone guns blazing and knives flying to wherever his Dean was, kill his own brother's target for him, and drag Dean back home by the panties.'Course, he couldn't well do that now, so it was up to Dean to get himself here then.





	You And I Alone

**Author's Note:**

> KaenNoMai - Thank. You. So. Fucking. Much. For. Everything. Without you, this fic never would have happened, and because of you, I've also got a whole fuckload of ideas for a main fic, which is now becoming more of a reality to happening hopefully sometime soon instead of a BIG maybe! So thank you thank you thank you so much, you're awesome, awesome, and like the best beta I could ever hope for you. Thank you :D

  “-Himself to be quite the menace.” 

  Sam blinked, looking up to meet Azazel’s all too wary eyes. He desperately tried to remember what they were talking about, but then decided it didn’t matter. “Kill him.” 

  Azazel’s eyes glinted. “Sir? Are you sure that’s wise? That’s as good as asking for a full on war.”

  Sam straightened, his face rippling into a stone cold mask. “Are you questioning my decisions?” Though, maybe he should, if he didn’t even know who they were currently discussing about. While Sam didn’t care much about a war, he knew better than to start one when he was already trying to change so many things. And a distant part of him recognized, that he wasn’t thinking clearly right now, but seriously, all he wanted was to just get out of here, to  _ find -  _ _   
_   Azazel bent down his head in deference. “Not at all, sir. But if that’s what you insist-”

  “No.” Sam exhaled, shuffling in his seat. He clenched his jaw, mind working furiously to come up with a proper answer, the right answer, and yet it was all in the background, faded away with the more concerning fact that it had been weeks, more than a  _ month,  _ even… “Just. Do we have anyone still watching over him?” Vague enough, and should hopefully clue him in on who they were talking about. 

  “We’ve got Ruby on it, sir.” 

  Ruby… that annoying brunette who was always trying to seduce him… 

  Oh. Right. They were talking about Michael. Definitely not a good idea to wage a war on him then. Not right now, anyway. 

  Sam nodded once, short and decisive. “Keep her there. I need more information on him before we take him out.”

  Azazel raised an eyebrow. “Of course, sir.” He lowered his head, turning to leave, but then pausing. 

  “Sir, if I may make an observation?”

  Sam raised his eyebrows, his face steely and daring Azazel to utter a word. “Go ahead.” His tone clearly challenged Azazel to pick his words wisely. 

  “You’ve been distracted. I can’t quite decide if it’s because of that Winchester getting away from y-us, or if there’s a girl involved.” Azazel leered. The man was either foolish, or suicidal, or both. Sam’s fingers itched to shoot him for merely uttering Dean’s name, but he managed to hold himself back. 

  “Your observation is duly noted. You may leave now, Azazel.” 

  Azazel looked like he was about to say something, but then he took in Sam’s rapidly darkening face, and immediately shut his mouth with an audible click. Bobbing his head like one of those annoying dolls, he finally left the room. 

  Now alone, Sam closed his eyes, rubbing them with his index and thumb, taking a few deep breaths. A few seconds passed, before he sighed, standing up and stretching out the kinks from his joints that sitting in that annoying chair Azazel insisted him to sit his ass on because ‘ _ a leader should look all the bit regal that he is’  _ gave him. Loosening the maroon tie from around his neck, he stepped behind his chair, slipping through a door and being immediately enveloped into darkness as he strode down a passageway taking him deeper inside their building. Slipping off his coat, he crooked a finger under the collar, throwing it over his shoulder, striding down the hallway with rapid steps, looking for all the world as careless yet the confident leader he was, yet concealing the internal conflict that was wreaking havoc within him at the moment. 

  Coming to a stop outside his door, he switched hands for his coat, freeing his right to press it against the scanner, waiting for it to do it’s thing before placing his chin on the rest for the retinal scan. Absently tapping in his passcode, he waiting for the system to process before sliding open the thick metal door. 

  The moment he was inside, Sam let his stance relax, muscles slouching as he carelessly discarded the coat over the back of an armchair across his fireplace, swiftly walking over to his desk and opening a bottle of scotch. Lifting the scotch, Sam paused, weighing the glass bottle in his hands before staring at the half empty container.

  “That shit really is some good stuff, I’ll give you that.”

  His gun was out in less than seconds, cocked, aimed, ready to shoot within millisecond, but, just as fast, he quickly set the bottle back on the desk, turning the safety back on his gun and pushing it back in the back of his waistband as he turned around, eyes barely processing the sight of Dean slinking out of the shadows from the furthest corner of Sam’s room.

  A glass of Sam’s scotch was in Dean’s hand, Dean slightly swirling it, the shadows of the lit fireplace dancing across Dean’s weary face.He barely had time to process Sam bounding over to him like an overgrown moose aiming for impact before Sam’s arms were around him, urging Dean’s legs to jump up and encircle Sam’s waist, just as Sam slammed Dean against the wall. The scotch jumped wildly, spilling over his hand, yet still somehow managing to remain within Dean’s grip. A breathy gasp escaped Dean’s lips, quickly swallowed up by Sam’s mouth as he pressed his mouth against Dean’s. 

  “Hey, hey, hey, no reason to waste a perfectly good scotch!” Dean retorted, when Sam finally let go of Dean’s lips to let them breathe. 

  Sam grit his teeth, but managed to roll his eyes lightheartedly as he pulled the scotch away from Dean, setting it on the nearby dresser. Ignoring Dean’s protests, Sam pushed himself closer to Dean, nearly squeezing Dean against the wall as he ran his fingers under Dean’s thighs, hands creeping up higher before finding firm purchase around Dean’s hips. Squeezing his hands, he relished in Dean’s subsequent hiss, before realizing the frown passing over Dean’s face was carrying far too much pain rather than arousal. Frowning, Sam pulled away slightly, but not enough to let Dean down. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Dean’s torso, supporting him as Sam walked over to the bed, gently letting him down to sit on the soft mattress, coming to sit in between Dean’s legs.

  “I can walk, you know.”

  But Sam didn’t bother to deign that with a response, already starting to work on getting Dean’s shirt off of him. The moment Dean realized what Sam was trying to do, however, he immediately started to protest, trying to stop Sam. But with a single look, jaw clenched so hard that his teeth was in the danger of being ground to dust, Sam snarled, curling a hand around Dean’s jaw and pulling him in for a harsh kiss, biting and sucking until Dean was whimpering, letting out high pitched gasps that Sam knew Dean would never admit to making. Grinning against Dean’s lips, Sam pulled back, feeling smug when Dean leaned forward, blindly trying to chase Sam’s lips before opening his eyes, failing to blink away the dazed look in his eyes. 

  Now sufficiently distracted, Sam dug his nails into Dean’s black sweater, and pulled. The shirt tore right down the center, threads unraveling as Dean’s shirt fell to his sides. Too late, Dean looked down at his now naked torso, and groaned, letting his head fall back. 

  Sam stared.

  Bruises were littered across the entirety of his torso, but what was more worrisome was the long, jagged scratches running lengthwise down his chest, as if an animal had gotten its claws in Dean.

  When Sam managed to find his voice, it was a low growl. “What the hell is this.” 

  Dean was silent, still as a statue, his face a blank mask. A second ticked by before he was carefully raising his shoulder into a forcedly careless shrug. “So you know how Lilith has hounds?” 

  Sam stared. 

  “Hey, if it helps, I managed to get that bastard Crowley after all. Guy didn’t even put up a fight once I showed him, was completely willing to rat-”

  That was all the patience Sam had, before he was surging forward, capturing Dean’s lips in a searing kiss, hands throwing away the remnants of Dean’s shirts, before inching further down to start tugging on Dean’s belt. 

  “You talk too much.” Sam muttered, and with one swift yank, Dean’s belt went flying, its fall silenced by the thick carpet. 

  “You worry too much.” Dean bit back, and Sam froze.

  The next second, Sam was hoisting Dean up, pushing him up the bed until Dean’s head landed on the pillow, body bouncing on the mattress. Dean’s pants were off before he even stopped moving, and Sam promptly started stripping himself. He had barely gotten started on unbuttoning his dress shirt before he lost his patience, and buttons soon went flying as he ripped his clothes apart in a haste to get himself bare, the thought of skin meeting skin  _ after so fucking long  _ too mouthwatering to put off any longer. 

  “ _ You were gone for more than a month. _ ” Sam hissed, flattening himself on Dean, fingers digging into Dean’s thigh, encouraging him to wrap a leg around his waist, his other hand holding on tight to Dean’s face, as if if Sam let go, Dean would disappear. If Sam let go, then Dean would disappear off for his next target. And maybe next time was when he wouldn’t be so lucky. If Sam let go and Dean left for his job, maybe that was the time Sam  _ should have  _ went with Dean, maybe that’s the time Dean needed backup, and without it - “You don’t  _ call,  _ you don’t  _ text,  _ you don’t even send me a frigging  _ pigeon.”  _

  Dean groaned in exasperation, but it was mostly muffled as Sam pressed forward again, and soon, Dean was groaning for a very different reason, as Sam’s cock bumped against his hole. 

  “F-fuck me,” Dean gasped, but Sam squeezed his eyes closed, shaking his head. 

  “You should have sent something,  _ anything-”  _ he muttered, his tone urgent and desperate.

  “Hey, hey, hey, look at me. C’mon, look at me, Sammy,” With gentle hands, Dean cradled Sam’s face, urging Sam to look at him. It took a few breaths, before Sam looked up, eyes creased in pain. ‘You know I’ll be fine. I always am. ‘Sides, it ain’t easy to get the one up over a Winchester. This,” He waved down vaguely towards his injured torso. “Just the damn hound that surprised me. In my defense, what the hell Crowley was even doing bringing it to the fucking toilet of all places, I don’t know. But it got what it had coming. And while I can’t swear that shit like this won’t happen again - look at  _ me,  _ Sam _ \-  _ I can promise you that I’ll always come home to you. Always, brother.” 

  Sam blinked, and then closed his eyes, trying desperately to hold back the tears that was fighting to come out, as he dropped his forehead down against Dean’s. “You say that now…”

  Dean muttered something, and even as close as they were, Sam still couldn’t hear whatever Dean said. But when he rolled his eyes, and then surged forward, flipping them around so Sam was on his back, Dean straddling his thighs, Sam had a feeling he knew the gist of it anyway. 

  “Where’s the lube?” Dean asked, holding onto Sam’s hands and stretching forward, pinning them above Sam’s head as he took the lead. 

  Sam smirked. “Nightstand.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Dean leaning forward, reaching for the nightstand. He was always so perfectly poised and balanced, in constant control of his body, ready to twist or position himself however he needed to get the best of anyone, that not a single person could ever win against Dean, no matter how well trained they were. 

  Then again, not everyone was Dean’s brother, one Sam Winchester. 

  So pulling his hands free, Dean barely let out a squawk of surprise, before he found himself on his back again, Sam neatly settling between his legs as he grabbed the bottle of lube from where it had fallen back into the drawer. 

  “Such an alpha.” Dean grumbled, but then his features melted, letting out a pleased hum as Sam rubbed a lubed finger against his hole. 

  “Only ‘cause you’re such a bottom.” Sam teased. 

  He pushed a finger in, eyes taking in every expression flitting over Dean’s face. Immense pleasure overcame anything, but Dean was soon frowning in impatience.

  “More, dammit, Sammy,  _ more!”  _

  Huffing, Sam pulled back, adding more lube before pushing back in. Dean moaned, trying to push down to get Sam’s fingers into him faster. Readjusting himself, Sam pressed a hand against Dean’s hip, holding him in place. 

  “Come on-” Sam crooked his fingers - and there it was. 

  Sam rubbed his fingers persistently against that bundle of nerves, adding a third finger and briefly stretching them inside him before continuing his onslaught against Dean’s prostate. Dean’s thrashing increasing, eyes slipping closed as he weakly grasped at Sam’s hair, fingers slipping before they could get a firm grasp on Sam’s roots. His cock rose to attention, and Sam knew Dean could come at any moment, untouched if given the chance. But they were on an actual bed, and after so long, Sam would be damned if he didn’t do this right. 

  So he pulled away, plastering on a smirk when Dean’s eyes immediately opened, looking furious as he looked up at Sam.

  “What the  _ f _ -” His eyes rolled up as, in one smooth motion, Sam sheathed himself within Dean. 

  Sam groaned, burying his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, lapping at the skin there as he pulled his arms up, slipping it under Dean to hold him closer. 

  Dean hissed in his ear, just as Sam shoved his hips forward again, burying himself to the hilt. Passing it off as just another one of Dean’s sounds of pleasure, Sam tightened his grips on Dean’s ribs, pulling back to thrust in again, but this time, when Dean let out a whimper that was more pained than anything, Sam immediately stopped, raising himself to peer down at Dean. And right away felt guilt crushing him when Dean tried to rearrange his features too late, resolutely trying to meet Sam’s eyes and not look down and give himself away. But Sam knew him too well, and he could have shot himself for forgetting his brother’s injuries at that moment. 

  “God, Dean-”

  “I’m fine-”

  “No, you’re  _ fucking  _ not-”

  “Dude, are you gonna fuck me or-”

  Irritated, Sam shoved his hips forward, immediately silencing Dean. Dean reached forward, blindly trying to grab again onto Sam’s hair. Despite himself, the corner of Sam’s lips quirked up. He reached up, taking hold of Dean’s hands, and placing them on the pillow by Dean’s head. Shifting, managed to hold himself above Dean, but still pressed close from waist down. Fingers entwined with Dean’s, Sam rolled his hips, pressing a kiss to Dean’s face as Dean moaned, legs tightening around Sam’s hips. Smiling, but becoming more breathless, Sam circled his hips, pressing close to Dean the entire time, peppering kisses all over Dean’s face. Fingers tightening, palms pressed flat despite the sweat gathering, Sam reared back, and when he shoved in, this time Dean let out a wild yell, eyes opening as he squeezed Sam’s fingers back. 

  “Found it.” Sam muttered cockily, and angling for the same spot, Sam pulled back, and rapidly began to thrust without relenting.

  Dean moaned, head thrashing, legs tightening. Swallowing, Sam pressed a kiss right to Dean’s lips, just as Dean arched his back, head falling back, and with one last yell, came.

  Feeling Dean’s muscles tightening around Sam’s cock, milking him for all he was worth, it wasn’t long before Sam came as well, burying his face in Dean’s neck and letting out a muffled shout as he spilled into Dean. 

  He barely managed to hold himself back from slumping against Dean, and though he knew that at any other time Dean could have easily taken his weight, this time, Sam was more mindful of Dean’s injuries as he rolled over to the side, wincing when he slipped out of Dean. 

  “I don’t think I’m gonna walk for a couple of days.” Sam chuckled. “No, seriously. You want me out, then you better help me out yourself.” 

  At that, Sam lost all traces of his previous amusement, face morphing back into a steel mask.

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  He heard Dean sigh, before his brother warily rolled over onto his side to look at Sam, propping himself up on one arm.

  “You know I have to, Sammy.” 

  Sam didn’t meet Dean’s eyes, resolutely looking at the ceiling. Dean reached over to twist Sam’s head, encouraging Sam to look at Dean. “Look. Just for a little longer. With Crowley squeaking like a friggin’ rat, we’ve only got a little while longer before we’ve got enough we need, and we can put everyone away, Sam.  _ Everyone.  _ From Alastair, to Azazel, to fucking  _ Michael _ , we can put them all away!” Sam scoffed, trying to turn away, but Dean held firmly onto Sam’s chin. 

  “You get me, Sam?” 

  Sam sighed, acquiescing, letting himself melt into Dean’s touch. He pushed himself so that he was on his side, facing Dean, but before Dean could say anything, Sam was gathering Dean into his arms, pulling him close to his body. With an indignant grunt, Dean came forward anyway, huffing exasperatedly, yet nonetheless neatly molding himself into the curves of Sam’s body, fitting together like the perfect puzzle.

  “Yeah, I get you.” Sam eventually mumbled. “Doesn’t mean I gotta like it, though.”

  “Yeah...” Dean took a deep breath, Sam’s arm moving with Dean’s chest at the movement.”But it’s only a little while longer, Sammy. Just a little while longer, and soon, Michael’s Angels and your Demons will rue the day they ever messed with the Winchesters.”   
  



End file.
